


Fairytale

by Lothiriel84



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Aromantic, Character Study, F/M, Gen, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: I'm in love with a fairytaleEven though it hurts'Cause I don't care if I lose my mindI'm already cursed
Relationships: Douglas Richardson/Douglas Richardson's First Wife, Douglas Richardson/Douglas Richardson's Second Wife, Douglas Richardson/Helena Richardson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	Fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> Douglas may have not yet realised he's aromantic, but he's getting there. Inspired by [this post](https://silverview.tumblr.com/post/108284397778/talk-to-me-about-aromantic-douglas-richardson).

For a long time after Helena, he makes no real attempt at dating. Sure, he does go in for the occasional, mutually satisfactory one-night stand; he may be world-weary and cynical, but he’s not _dead_ yet, if you catch his drift. And yes, deep down under his carefully constructed Sky God persona, he’s only too painfully aware that he’s getting on a bit, and he would do better to start looking for a new potential long-term partner sooner rather than later; he just feels like he could use a bit of space, after going through the motions of yet another messy divorce.

To be perfectly honest – which he rarely is, even in the privacy of his own mind – his marriage to Helena had been withering away long before the Tai Chi teacher even entered the picture. Like clockwork, all of Douglas’s relationships invariably reach a stage where he can’t seem to meet his partner’s emotional needs, no matter how hard he tries. After that, it’s only a matter of time before the relationship itself starts to sink to its untimely end; even now, with three failed marriages under his belt, he doesn’t feel remotely closer to figuring out how to stop it from happening.

Always one for grand gestures, he can’t seem to get to grips with the fabled _happily ever after_ , so to speak. Sweeping the woman of his dreams off her feet is easy, always has been; keeping up with the daily grind of playing the part of the loving husband, not so much. And for all that he’d very much rather not unscrew the cap on that particular period of his life, he’s still plagued by the niggling doubt that it wasn’t so much his drinking problem that caused the dissolution of his first marriage as it was the strain of living up to societal expectations with regard to a happy and fulfilled married life that pushed him towards drinking in the first place.

All those romantic movies Linda was so fond of watching, back in the day, they never showed you what comes _after_ your significant other says yes, and you finally settle into a life together. He always assumed everything would fall into place, once you’re sitting in your picture-perfect house with your beautiful new wife and a little bundle of joy on the way. What those movies usually failed to mention was that you were basically signing in for what felt like a lifetime of proving your worth as a romantic partner, regardless that you were long past the courtship stage by that point.

And, well, frankly it all started feeling a bit too much, no matter how adoring his wife or how spectacular the sex. They had kept it up long after that, mainly for Verity’s sake, but in hindsight it was a terrible decision, not least because rather than owning up to his share of the blame, he started to hit the bottle as a way to numb his feelings of inadequacy. It had taken a decade of sobriety and the failure of his second marriage for him and Linda to be back on speaking terms, and by then, he was barely more than a stranger to his elder daughter.

When he and Karen got married, he thought he had it all worked out; she was his closest confidant as well as his lover, and they were on an equal footing in pretty much every aspect of their relationship. And above all, she didn’t require constant proof of his unchanged feelings towards her; no need for him to put on an act for her benefit, he could just be himself in her presence, or so he thought.

By the time Emily was four, they were sleeping in separate rooms, and he was seeing more of Helena than he did of his own wife. He never cheated on Karen, that much was true, but it did very little to assuage his guilt when he eventually bowed to the inevitable and manifested his intention to split up with her. She called him a bastard and a liar, even accused him of carrying a torch for ‘that bitch’ ever since their wedding day, five years prior; and while he would maybe go as far as admit to a certain level of sexual attraction dating back to that first meeting, he had only been entertaining the idea of acting on it for the past six months.

And oh, sex with Helena was everything he’d imagined it to be, and more. She was significantly younger than both Linda and Karen, happened to be a fitness enthusiast, and even more importantly, she was under the impression he was the best thing since the sliced bread. Which was precisely why he elected to omit the finer details when it came to his reasons for exchanging his prior position at Air England for an otherwise unspecified job at a small charter firm that – quite conveniently – operated out of Fitton. And yet, somewhere along the way, even their shared belief in the terrificness of Douglas Richardson turned out to be _not enough_.

 _“At least he loves me,”_ Helena had spat back at him, when he’d lashed out at her for having an affair behind his back. He’d let go of her then, his mind floundering helplessly as she moved around the room to gather her things, only coming back to his senses when the front door slammed shut after her.

How could she even suggest he didn’t love her, after he’d bloody left Emily’s mother to be with her? And yet, even now, with his third divorce long finalised and yet another flavour of alimony putting a dent in his savings, he cannot help but wonder.

Was he really, truly in love with Helena when he married her? He thought he was at the time, and with each of his previous wives before her, but now he’s not so sure anymore. Not after he had to sit through an eight-hour flight with Herc describing to him in painful detail how Carolyn makes him _feel_ , never mind that she’s not even remotely his type and he very nearly gets a heart attack every time he lays eyes on that terrifying-looking stuffed sheep that lives in their house.

And now Martin has announced he and Theresa are finally getting married – his Liechtenstein citizenship test passed with flying colours, and on his fifth attempt no less – Douglas is beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, this relationship malarkey might not be for him after all.

It’s not as if he isn’t happy enough now, back in the captain’s seat, flying the old girl all over the world with Carolyn and Arthur – and yes, even _Herc_ – at his side. And he still gets to tease Martin by text in his spare time, send him new word games when he’s particularly bored, or even fill him in on Arthur’s latest culinary exploits.

He’s going to go up to Barrow-in-Furness in two weeks’ time for Emily’s birthday, and he’s actually looking forward to seeing Karen again; they’ve settled into the beginnings of a tentative friendship of late, what with his most recent divorce and her splitting up amicably with her second husband, and she jokingly told him over the phone he’s welcome to stay for the duration of the weekend so long as there are no further attempt on the life of her surviving koi carp.

As for Verity, their relationship may still be more than a little frayed in places, but he gets the feeling she’ll come round in her own time, whenever she’s ready. He was positively delighted when she emailed him last month, explaining she moved in with her girlfriend and that he should send her birthday and Christmas cards to the new address.

As one of the greatest philosophers of our age put it, _you’re hardly ever blissfully happy with the love of your life in the moonlight; and when you are, you’re too busy worrying about it being over soon_. He smiles, closes his laptop, and decides he may as well run himself a hot bath.


End file.
